Why Crowley make crepes?
by KillerNinjaPanda
Summary: OS Aziraphale/Crowley written for a drawing by Kogla. When you make a stupid bet to an angel, you have to be able to take it later. But Crowley wasn't really ready.


Small OS written for one of Kogla's drawings (if you don't know her go see her Insta or Tumblr ( kogla) her drawings are really really good).

Also this is the first time I've tried to publish from my smartphone so I'm not sure how the layout will look like.

* * *

"Come on, Angel, it's just a restaurant."

Crowley started going around in circles again in his apartment.

"Aziraphale... No. No, don't take it like that, at least listen to me! I have no choice! I assure you, if you talk again about... And you do it..."

Crowley growled and moved his cell phone away from his ear as he sat in his chair. He put his feet on his desk and put the device against his ear.

"Okay, maybe it was an exaggeration to say that I had influenced all the spectators of this football match, but they pay to watch a football match, they will necessarily end up with us... Although it's obvious they won't go to your side... I mean, that's not why I was calling you."

Crowley rubbed his nose.

"I have to present my last big actions tonight I couldn't be at the Ritz... Yes, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry... You know what, tomorrow I'll invite you," he said, raising his arms. "At home."

The demon opened his mouth not knowing what to answer in front of the angel's mockery of his culinary talents.

"We made a bet!" suddenly launched the demonic creature. "I assure you, you're going to love what I'm going to cook. We bet what you want!"

The demon waited for the answer that comes after a short time of reflection on the side of Aziraphale. When the angel replied, Crowley's face lost the assurance that he was approaching a few seconds earlier.

"Okay," he approved in a breath.

He hung up and immediately took his face in his hands.

"Shit," he roared heavily.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"And so that's how I had Instagram planted for almost three hours. The people were completely crazy, it was incredible. We had to get at least... Two hundred thousand people. And regarding North Korea... The demon I sent was decorpored during his mission. Well, you're here, Mostre! Nice to see you back with us. How was the decorporation? Not cool, huh?"

Crowley took advantage of the turmoil that immediately filled the ranks, the demons having never experienced the experience of being decorpored wanting details, and ran away so dry. Headed for his apartment and a Google tour.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The demon bit his lips by letting his snake eyes go through a new cooking site. What should he choose? He needed something simple. Extremely simple. Childish would be perfect. He had never cooked before. Never tasted human food either. As time passed, Crowley sank deeper into his chair. He had made a mistake. A big mistake. He couldn't cook, didn't know what taste and texture every food should have. And above all, it needed something that the angel appreciates.

Sushi? He knew Aziraphale loved it. But he used to eat them commonly in great restaurants, prepared by experts in the field. No way he couldn't do it, he wouldn't have known which rice to take.

Crepes maybe...? According to the dozens of comments from the site on which he was arrested, the recipe for crepes he proposed was "delicious", "extremely simple and quick to make", "impossible to miss" but above all Claire announced "my children loved it, a recipe to choose with their eyes closed". And if Claire's children had loved it, it meant everything! It was that recipe he needed.

Crowley slowly massaged his temples. The angel was supposed to arrive by seven o'clock. It gave him plenty of time. More than one turn of the dial to make a handful of crepes. Of a childish simplicity.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Good morning, sir! Your order."

"Thank you," muttered the demon, giving a ticket to the delivery man before slamming the door with his recycled paper bag in his arms.

Home delivery was a godsend. The demonic creature left for the room in his apartment that he had never explored before. The kitchen. To be exact, he had seen it once when he visited the apartment before buying it. Afterwards, with the keys in his hand, he closed the door to this room and never opened it again. The room was impeccable. The black cupboards shone and the worktop was so clean that as Crowley approached to put the bag down, he was able to observe its reflection. The reflection of a man, well a demon, completely helpless. He retreats and catches one of the last plants he bought. Going back to the kitchen he put it on top of the fridge. The room was much better now.

"And you better grow up and stay perfectly green," he barked at the trembling plant.

It was too much pressure on his young leaves.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

A failure, his meal was a failure and his life an misery. Crowley opened his garbage can again and emptied the contents of his frying pan with a grimace of disgust. The entire garbage can reflected the devastating failure of his day in the kitchen. If the making of the crepes batter had indeed been "extremely simple", the rest of the menu was impossible to achieve. However, he did not have much time left before the angel rang at his door. What was he going to find to get out of this terrible situation?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Crowley, his hands crossed under his chin, stared at his phone. He grabbed it and started typing a number but put the device down. Then he took it back before putting it back again without making a single call. He sighed heavily and grabbed his smartphone one more time.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Angel! What a surprise, I didn't think you'd arrive too... Early."

Crowley gave a frozen smile to the celestial creature waiting outside his door.

"Come in," said the redhead as he erased himself from the entrance.

When the door was closed behind their backs, Aziraphale handed a package to the demon.

"Here, it's a gift."

"Why would you do that?"

"Try it on."

Suspicious, the demon opened the packaging and took out a grey apron.

"Hum. What should I do with it?"

"Put it on. It's for the kitchen. To avoid this kind of thing," explained the blond man by pointing to the white flour marks on the front of the dark shirt.

Still suspicious in front of the angel's delighted look, Crowley put the apron around his neck.

"Well, now we're doing..."

Crowley frowned and stopped his sentence. There were words printed on the front of the apron.

"The cook... Kiss the..."

The demon raised his head to fix Aziraphale. Naaaaa. The blond couldn't... Yes, it is. Yes, yes, yes. The angel's look said a lot.

"Angel," Crowley began by taking a step towards him.

"No, you won't get anything until we check if the registration is correct."

"I'm a great cook," shouted the ginger immediately.

The demon escorted the angel to the living room he never used, preferring his desk, and invited him to sit at the table. Then he disappeared into the kitchen and came back a few moments later, a plate in his hands. He laid her down in front of the angel and sat down in front of him.

"Crowley, it's beautiful."

Embarrassed, the demon scratched his back of the head.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Well," said Aziraphale calmly, wiping his lips with his towel. "It was really delicious. Now, my dear, are you going to confess or do I have to say it myself?"

"What?"

"I know the cuisine of the Barge East* Crowley. So it was a good try, but a little too big."

The demon sighed.

"I tried Angel. I swear to you, I tried... But it was a disaster," concluded the redhead with a grimace.

"No, it couldn't have been that bad."

"You say that because you haven't seen or tasted anything," Crowley continued in a dramatic tone.

"What do you say we try it again?"

Crowley took off his glasses and looked sadly at the angel.

"It's too late for that. The kitchen won, I have... Lost."

"My dear, it is probably too early to come to such a conclusion. Come on, let's go to the kitchen."

The demon got up and scraped the feet of his armchair and guided the angel to the cursed room. Aziraphale quickly observed the ingredients and approached a bowl. He dipped a finger into the dough and licked it.

"Oh! You were making crepes! For me... That's lovely, Crowley..."

The demon who had meanwhile grabbed the handle of a frying pan, smiled gently.

"I know you like it. And I'd rather not have to save you from beheading again."

Aziraphale smiled and remained silent to watch the demon cook several pancakes. He stepped forward to look at them more closely.

"They look perfect. I don't see why you were making such a big deal earlier."

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, to tell the truth, he assumed a miracle so that what he touched would not end up directly in the garbage. Aziraphale approached and took a piece of the last crepe out of the pan.

"Delicious... Crowley?"

The redhead looked away from a new crepe that was gently golden and Aziraphale's hand landed on his cheek. Knowing very well what was going to happen, Crowley closed his eyes and let the angel's lips rest on his. The chaste kiss they exchanged was not enough for the redhead who, dropping his frying pan, pressed the angel against the neighbouring piece of furniture to kiss her more beautifully.

"Crowley..."

"Hum?"

"Crowley, it smells like burning."

The demon lifted his nose from the angel's neck and turned his face sharply towards the hob.

"Shit."

A slight black smoke was rising from the pan and the unpleasant smell intensified. The demon approached with a leap and hurried to remove it from the fire.

"Angel, it's over for crepes," he announced seriously.

"It doesn't matter," laughs Aziraphale as he grabs the plate where a dozen crepes were already resting. "We have enough already. Have you tasted them?"

"No."

Aziraphale rolled one and handed it to Crowley.

"Taste it."

The old snake approached his teeth to the innocent little pancake and violently cut off his head before chewing it. He shrugged vaguely.

"I suppose it's okay," he finally said under the watchful eye of the celestial creature.

Aziraphale nodded and bit into the crepe.

"But it's a little... Bland," smiles the demon maliciously as he melts on the angel's lips.

Nothing to do, no food was equivalent to taste... Ineffable from these lips. For Crowley, it was obvious.

* * *

*No idea what this restaurant is, I just Google-taped London restaurant and picked one at random

Sorry if there are mistakes or awkward or even false formulations, feel free to tell me.

I am still learning ^-^


End file.
